


how it goes, with(out) hope

by MurderousMirages



Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Alternate Canon, Fluff, Hospital scene, M/M, a bit of angst, its cute, its every other jally fic guys, woah guys he lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 09:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25348147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurderousMirages/pseuds/MurderousMirages
Summary: Johnny Cade is in the hospital when Dallas Winston, in all his glory goes to see him one last time.
Relationships: Johnny Cade & Dallas Winston, Johnny Cade/Dallas Winston
Kudos: 42





	how it goes, with(out) hope

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is @damngoodgirl send me writing asks! thank you for reading and also if there are any errors, you know the drill.

"Fuck." Dallas thought, rushing through the hospital. Still groggy from all the saline and drugs he'd been pumped with. "Jesus Christ." he was on fire.

Feet crossing, shoes untied, stumbling.

"147." He murmured, looking at the blur of numbers as he ran past, suddenly coming to a quick halt, and moving his damp blonde hair out of his face.

His blue eyes reflected back at him as he looked at Johnny through the glazed window on the door. Tubes from his nose and wires on his body. Trying to ignore the started faces of the nurses and the way mothers pulled their already crying children closer. He focused on Johnny, shallowly breathing, a tattered book on the nightstand, no other belongings for him.

"Johnny!" He yelled as he finally opened the door, voice coming down to a whisper. He inched closer to the bed. "Johnny." He laid there, the cold sweat on his forehead to the deep gash in his back, and the thought made Dallas wince.

It started to heal, the doctors told him, but they also said he'd die today if he didn't wake up. He asked, so many times. He asked for him, Johnny. The staff knew who he was now, what he was to Dallas. Nothing, no one could change that. Dallas pulled his hand closer to Johnny's face. Fingers almost touching his cheeks, too thin to be belonging to such a boy. Cupping his jaw, Dallas leaned in, breathing in the smell of dusty pine and bleach. Sighing, taking his hand away, resting his forehead against the stickiness of Johnny's.

He smiled, scoffing, "This is it, Johnnycakes. "

His hand grasped Johnny's quickly, squeezing and waiting for a miracle. Looking up for a second to see the hallway clear, not even a crying child he leaned down. Pressing his lips to Johnny's, softly, as to not break the boy who's been stitched together too many times. Only to pull away like a child who did not get enough candy. Tears brimmed at the corners of his eyes, he pulled his jacket to roughly wipe away, pressing it to his nose to stop the sniffing. He'd shake his head and stomp his feet but nothing would stop it, the tears of the great Dallas Winston pooling at his chin, and his face scrunched in pain. His world, ever dandelion, rainbows, all the good done in his ever-if there was any good to count-would be gone. And Dallas would be nothing. As soft as he'd ever been with himself, he wiped away the tears and glanced behind his shoulder. One more kiss. Almost as quick as the first one, less haste and more love, he pressed another to Johnny's lips, hands coming up to cradle his face, trying their best to flatten out mangled hair.

"Dally?" a horse voice asked, tickling his lips.

"Yeah." he laughed.

"Hi."


End file.
